Savior
by Niamh Cunningham
Summary: A quick oneshot showing the side of a Winchester we never see very often. When you need comfort - the Winchesters are not usually the ones you would imagine to save you. OC story


**Supernatural - Dean Winchester/OC Oneshot**

**This is my first Supernatural fanfic so could you please be easy on me. I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters - only my OC and storyline. No intended copyright.**

**Reviews are extremely helpful for me and will take any criticism or feedback you wish to give me. Thank you for reading and enjoy!**

**Savior**

I ran into my room, slamming the door behind me, and collapsed onto my bed. The tears were impatiently trying to escape but I fought to keep them back.  
He is dead. My father. Dead. Gone. And all because of some evil son of a bitch vampire. Oh god. My father. The man who raised me and guided me. And he is gone. Forever. I can't bring him back. He is dead.  
I ran my shaking fingers through my long, matted hair as I let out a long deep breath, trying to calm myself. But how can I be calm. My father just died for Christ's sake. He is - was all I had left.  
I fell back onto the mattress once again and rolled onto my front, burying my face deep into the comfort of my pillows. But even their comfort could not help me.  
Just as I was beginning to cry a soft knocking came from my door and that voice came through.  
"Lizzie?" That voice was calling for me. I knew who it was but even he would not be able to help me.  
"Lizzie? Can I come in?" I did not reply. I was afraid that if I tried to respond all that would come was my sobs.  
I heard the door gently creaking open and that voice again "Lizzie."  
It sent shivers down my spine when he said my name. His voice seemed full of concern. Real concern. Nothing I ever thought I would hear from this man.  
I felt him sit on the bed beside me. I buried my face deeper into the safety of my pillows, trying to hide my weak self from him.  
He sighed, "Lizzie, look at me."  
I turned my head ever so slightly to look at him. How could I disobey that voice?

He opened his arms, inviting me in. I accepted and crawled towards him before collapsing into his lap.  
He hooked his arms beneath mine, pulling me toward him tightly, pressing his lips softly upon my shoulder and digging his fingers into my back. He always hugs as if it is the last time. But this time it was different.  
He was warm - always warm - and that familiar scent of smoke and cheap soap. But it was perfect. So perfect.  
And he just let me sob - I couldn't fight the tears any longer. He just let me cry, into the crook of his neck. His hand found its way to my hair and gripped onto a bundle. He held my head into his shoulder as I cried. The other arm hooked around my waist closing any gap there could possibly be between us.  
He rubbed my back in a soothing gesture and stroked my hair, calming me and helping me release all the emotion I was feeling.  
Our bodies were intertwined with another and in that moment - everything was perfect.

After a while he released my head ever so slightly as I pulled away from the crook of his neck. I was done crying. He had somehow made me feel better. He made me feel warm and safe and loved. That was all I needed.  
With one arm still wrapped around my waist he lifted my jaw so I was looking directly into his eyes. Oh those familiar green eyes. So dangerous yet humble and caring. His fingers lingered beneath my jaw for a moment before he slowly pressed his palm against my cheek. With his thumb he wiped away any tear that may still be falling down my face. His caressing was soft. I tingled at his touch. Not wanting this moment to stop.  
He finished clearing my face and rested his palm against my cheek again. His other arm left my waist as he traced my cheekbones with his fingers. I couldn't move. I was frozen. Frozen in time and physically. It was as if the world had stopped around us and there was only us two; nothing else.

Our eyes were still connected as his hands explored my features. He moved both hands to the sides of my face, preventing me from moving. And he looked into my eyes once more before his gaze averted to my lips. His eyes kept wandering from my lips to my eyes over and over as his face drew nearer and nearer to mine.  
I sucked in a small breath just as his lips were placed on mine. And that was it. The beginning. The connection of our love.  
I cannot even begin to explain the amount of times I have urged for his touch and dreamed of these lips. And it was happening. Actually happening.

Our lips moved in perfect sync. It was a soft, gentle kiss at first but then progressed into one more heated and full of passion. All our energy being transferred into this one kiss. He could tell I wanted this, as I him.  
His warm hands moved from my face to the back of my head as he pulled me closer into the kiss. His other arm wrapped tightly around my waist, securing me in the embrace. And it was perfect.  
In that moment I was his and he was mine. My savior; Dean Winchester.


End file.
